


At World's End (a Commonwealth Love Song).

by espiritus



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Angst and Feels, Definitely not a light read, Did I say trigger warning?, Experimental, F/M, Major character death - Freeform, Not graphic but still pretty awful, Slight Canon Divergence, Strong Language, Suicide, Yours will too, my feels, super dark, they hurt, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-14 13:59:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 8,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11784624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/espiritus/pseuds/espiritus
Summary: Despite a successful mission at Med-Tek, Duncan succumbs to his illness before the cure reaches him and Mac decides to take matters into his own hands. By the time Von finds out what his intentions are, the wheels are already in motion, and so she turns her attention to making their final moments worth remembering.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you are triggered by this sort of content, you know where the back button is; please consider this your warning.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mysterious messenger arrives at Sanctuary Hills, and Von intercepts news that she wishes she hadn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _you and i go deep like water,_   
>  _you and i run red like blood._   
>  _you know my darkest secrets,_   
>  _i know what you're made of._
> 
> _drip drop, the rain is falling;_   
>  _i hear it all could flood._   
>  _one rainy night away_   
>  _from losing all you love._
> 
> _it's a brilliant game you play,_   
>  _when you lock yourself away_   
>  _and you make me fight_   
>  _for you, you, you._
> 
> -icon for hire, _war_

It was just before dawn and still dark out when the caravan arrived at Sanctuary Hills, accompanied by a woman dressed in black. She had travelled from the Capital Wasteland for days, overencumbered with the burden of bad news on her shoulders; no parent should ever have to bury a child. But, for every happy ending in this fucked-up world, there were a thousand unhappy ones, and this was one of them.

The boy hadn't been very old- by the Courier's estimate, he'd have been four or five at most. She'd seen many corpses over the years, but she would never forget the sight of his little body, ravaged by fever and covered in unsightly blue boils. It was apparent that he had suffered a great deal, and death was a mercy when compared to the lot he'd been dealt in life.

"Halt! Who goes there?"

"I'm looking for a Mayor MacCready, formerly of Little Lamplight. I come bearing an urgent message from the Capital Wasteland, and it is imperative that I deliver this news immediately."

The man cast a glance over his shoulder. Many of the settlers were still asleep, though a few early risers had already begun their morning chores. "Very well," he answered, extending his hand for the Courier to shake. "Lieutenant Preston Garvey, of the Commonwealth Minutemen. I hope you understand that I was just doing my job, and that I don't mean to prevent you from doing yours; if you're looking for MacCready, he's in the last cabin on the right, though I'm going to have to ask you to hand over any weapons before you go any further."

The Courier nodded, and she handed over her 10mm pistol before entering the settlement. Not halfway to her destination, she was stopped by a woman wearing a colonial duster over a blue jumpsuit, along with a grey flight helmet that covered most of her face. She removed the helmet, revealing a full head of long, silky hair and stunning green eyes that glinted like twin pools of irradiated lightning, before inclining her head in the newcomer's direction.

"General Von Hadley, Commonwealth Minutemen. And you are?"

"I am merely a messenger, Madam General. If you see Mayor MacCready, please make sure that he gets this immediately."

_Mayor MacCready?_

Von nodded her assent, and the Courier handed her a scroll before returning to Preston for her pistol. She watched as the strange woman in black and her caravan headed away from the settlement, then unfurled the scroll; the words scrawled on the paper were barely legible, but the ones she could read brought her heart to a screeching halt.

_Mayor MacCready,_

_We regret to inform you that your son, Duncan, succumbed to his illness this Seventeenth of August, two-thousand eighty-seven, aged four and a half years..._

Tears blurred her vision, and she had to stop reading as she could no longer decipher the words on the page. But she didn't need to read the rest, to know that there was only one way this could end. She'd been hoping for better news- anything, but this.

_No. Oh god, no._

She had to tell him. Better that she be the one to do it, rather than a complete stranger; he deserved to know the truth, and perhaps she could make it easier, somehow. But how could she, or anyone, possibly soften the blow of losing his only child?

_But we did everything right. We got the cure from Med-Tek, used Daisy's connections to get it there as fast as we could... Things couldn't have gone smoother if we'd planned as much. Where did we go wrong?_

Perhaps she could lie; burn that scroll and pretend she'd never seen it, or forge a fake that would tell MacCready his boy was alive and well. But it would only hurt more in the long run, if he found out from someone else or it came out that she'd fudged the details, even if her only intention was to spare him her pain.

After a few moments of careful deliberation, she sucked in a deep breath and brushed the tears from her eyes before heading for the last cabin on the right.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Von reluctantly delivers the news of Duncan's death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _wish i'd died, instead of lived;_   
>  _a zombie hides my face._   
>  _shell forgotten with its memories,_   
>  _diaries left with cryptic entries,_
> 
> _and you don't need to bother;_   
>  _i don't need to be._   
>  _i'll keep slipping farther_   
>  _but, once I hold on,_   
>  _i won't let go 'til it bleeds._
> 
> -stone sour, _bother_
> 
> If you are still reading, in spite of the numerous warnings I've already given, you're here because you want to be.

By the time she reached MacCready's cabin, Von's heart was in her throat. Things between them had been tense since their return from Goodneighbour, and she had a feeling that this revelation wasn't going to end well: Lucy was gone, their relationship was on shaky ground, and now this.

Perhaps he would blame her for Duncan's death, and maybe she deserved to carry her share of that burden. She'd been so wrapped up in her mission to save Shaun that he never told her about Duncan until after he'd tried to get the cure himself and nearly been shredded by the feral ghouls at Med-Tek... If he had asked her for help, rather than blindly charging into a war zone, he'd never have gotten that horrible infection... meaning that it wouldn't have taken her so long to treat his injuries, and they could have bought themselves precious time that might have saved the boy's life.

She swallowed over the sob that bubbled deep in her chest and knocked on the door. As it creaked open, Mac sat up in bed and blinked- he looked surprised to see her, and she had to fight back tears as she clutched the scroll in her hand, knowing that the bomb she was about to drop would be far more devastating than the one that had brought about the end of the world.

"What are you doing here, Boss? It's early, and I thought you said-"

In response, Von simply shook her head. She didn't trust herself to speak, for fear that she'd start crying instead; she bit her lip and fought back the tears that threatened to squeeze their way out from behind her eyelids.

"Boss? Olivia? What the hell is going on here?"

His voice was concerned, desperate, and that was all it took to break her. She handed over the scroll as silent tears spilled down her cheeks; she watched as devastation registered in his eyes, and her heart sank into the pit of her stomach. She dug her fingernails into the palms of her hands, willing herself not to cry- Mac needed her, and she would have to be brave enough for both of them.

"I think you should go."

His voice broke on the last word, and Von tried her hardest not to cry as she nodded her response. She wanted to protest, hold him until neither of them could breathe, or perhaps both. But, unless she could figure out a way to reverse time and save Duncan, against overwhelming odds, it was a lost cause.

"I'm sorry," she replied, her own voice cracking as she said it. "If there's anything I can do, just let me-"

"Just go," he said, clearly on the verge of tears even as his words sliced neatly and deliberately through her own. "Now would be good."

Knowing that there was nothing more she could do, and out of respect for his wishes, she nodded in agreement before leaving the room. And, no sooner had the door clicked shut behind her, she burst into tears.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that both Lucy and Duncan are gone, Mac has made up his mind to end things on his own terms, but hasn't quite decided how.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _good morning, cruel world-_   
>  _did you sleep well last night?_   
>  _were you dreaming of all the ways_
> 
> _to torture my soul,_  
>  _to ruin my life-_  
>  _this anguish, your ecstasy?_  
> 
> -voltaire, _hello, cruel world_

The door clicked shut as Von made her exit, and Mac watched her go, completely numb to all of it. He hadn't wanted her to leave; the last thing he wanted was to be alone, and he wished that he'd had the courage to ask her to stay. But the words wouldn't come out, and she was gone before he had a chance to change his mind.

He knew she blamed herself for what had happened, though none of it was her fault. She'd dropped everything to help him get that cure, fought for Duncan's life as though he were her own son, even though she likely knew that time wasn't on their side and that the mission was ultimately in vain. Perhaps it was for the best that she'd left; he didn't want her to see him like this.

_"You don't owe me anything. All I care about is curing Duncan- it may be too late for my son, but I won't stand by and watch you lose yours too."_

He glanced at the scroll in his hand, the ink now smudged and paper stained red- he'd clutched it so tightly that both palms were bloody and covered in deep gouges. It should have hurt, but it didn't; none of it felt real, and yet the familiar pang of guilt in his chest told him that it was. Lucy was gone. Duncan was gone. He had failed, and that knowledge was what cut the deepest.

_But we did everything right. Why the hell did it take so long to get that cure into Duncan's hands?_

Just thinking about it made him angry. He grabbed an empty liquor bottle from beside the bed and threw it against the wall; it shattered on impact, shards of broken glass flying everywhere and dropping to the floor like sadistic rain. So he picked up another bottle, and another, and another, until the cabin floor was a sea of shattered glass and grief. Every vein in his body twitched with rage and, when there were no bottles left to break, he gripped the shards in both hands until they bled before pummelling the wall with every ounce of strength he had, leaving bloody handprints everywhere. Maybe his knuckles were broken, or maybe they weren't. But he didn't care.

It should have hurt, but it didn't.

Weak with exhaustion, he tried to light a cigarette, but his hands were shaking so violently that he dropped it. And, when he finally got the damn thing lit, every drag burned his throat; his breath came in short, shallow gasps, as though he were inhaling through a straw. Sobriety hurt. Everything hurt. Living felt wrong, and that's when he knew that it had to end.

How didn't really matter. A gun in his mouth was the easiest and quickest way, but it wasn't fair that he should have an easy time of it when both Lucy and Duncan had suffered so. Admittedly, the idea of dying alone and in pain terrified him; he wanted Von to be there, for her face to be the last thing he saw before he made his exit from the world, and asking her to pull the trigger- not to mention leaving a disaster of that scale behind for her to clean up- was cruel. Poisoning was slower and considerably less messy, but undignified; perhaps there was a balance between the blaze of glory he wanted and the peace of mind that she deserved.

Rat poison was plentiful in Sanctuary, since the settlers used it to keep mole rats away. He could add it to a bottle of vodka or some syringe, get drunk, shoot up chems, and fall asleep. He knew that Von sometimes used Calmex to treat her chronic insomnia, which would suit his purpose just fine.

It would be just like any other night, except that there would be no waking up at the end of it all.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Von returns to Mac's cabin, only to discover that his master plan is already in motion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in case it needs to be said again: **TRIGGER WARNING**.
> 
>  _can you heal me,_  
>  _when nothing is mine?_  
>  _a weak smile won't mean a thing_  
>  _to my bitter mind._  
>     
> -lacrimas profundere, _my release in pain_

Something didn't feel right.

For as long as Von could remember, her gut instinct had never led her astray. Perhaps it was an innate skill, or one she'd developed during her years as a counterintelligence threat analyst, but she'd always known when a crisis loomed on the horizon: whether Nate was having a bad day at work or the world was about to end, she'd felt it in her bones. And, right now, her instinct told her that something was about to go very wrong.

She'd spent the better part of the day in the root cellar, ruminating on the events leading up to their mission at Med-Tek and trying to figure out where they'd gone so horribly wrong. It was exactly what she would have done if it had been her own son who'd passed away- until recently, she _had_ thought Shaun to be dead as well, and had mourned him accordingly. She and Mac were two sides of the same coin, when it came to the losses they'd both suffered, and she understood, on the deepest and most visceral level, just how distraught he was. But, rather than remind him of that fact, she'd opted to give him the space he needed to grieve. At least that's what she'd have wanted him to do for her, had the situation been reversed.

Perhaps she should have stayed. But their fragile, complicated bond had only become more so in the days leading up to all of this, and her presence would have only made things worse. Now that some time had passed since she'd delivered the Courier's message, it was possible that he would be more receptive to the assistance she'd offered. So she gathered a few extra supplies and retraced her steps toward that little cabin.

The door was shut, so she knocked. When no response came, she tried to tell herself that he was asleep, or had gone for a walk somewhere. But she couldn't ignore the panic rising in her stomach and knocked harder: he still didn't answer and, though she tried to pick the lock, it was chained on the other side. Finally, she kicked the door in with all of her strength; it gave way easily but, as soon as she'd gained entry and closed it behind her, she immediately wished that she hadn't.

There was blood everywhere. The room looked like a scene straight out of Pickman Gallery, crimson handprints on the walls and broken glass- some of which was tinted red- strewn about in a mosaic of pain. She drew a sharp breath, steeling her nerves for what she might see as she headed deeper into the cabin, but nothing could have prepared her for the sight that waited at the end of the hallway.

Mac had collapsed in the doorway of the last room, presumably on his way back to the front of the house. His hands and arms were covered in angry red slashes, syringes protruding from some of the open wounds; a crumpled box of rat poison, also stained red, lay a few feet away, and it didn't take much for Von to put the pieces together. She never should have left him alone, even though she'd only done so out of respect for his wishes. How long had he been planning this?

She listened for a pulse and, upon discovering that he still had one, frantically dug through her med kit for a stimpak. In a single smooth motion, she grabbed one and pulled it from her kit, then injected it into one of the gashes on his right arm; he let out a strange gasping sound and sat up briefly before slumping back against the wall. Fortunately, he wasn't much bigger than she was and, with some effort, she was able to carry him to the bed. She set him down atop the mattress, and his eyes fluttered open for a moment as his mouth tried to form words.

"You came back."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Von tries to save Mac, but the damage has already been done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _for the last time,_   
>  _i will see the sky above_   
>  _when walking towards ending_   
>  _(walking towards ending)._
> 
> _still feel hours left,_   
>  _until i breathe my final breath-_   
>  _at last i will be free_   
>  _(at last i will be free)._
> 
> -amberian dawn, _passing bells._

"You came back."

Von nodded, her eyes welling up as she clasped Mac's hand in her own. She couldn't find words, didn't trust herself to speak, for fear that she would dissolve into hysterics as soon as she tried. So, instead, she held him and forced herself to maintain eye contact, trying not to look at the open gashes on his hands and arms. Her own hands were covered in blood, and everything she touched turned red as she bravely swatted at the tears that glistened on her cheeks, but she didn't care.

"You need a doctor."

In response, Mac shook his head, but gripped her hand tighter as his head fell back against the pillow. "No," he insisted, his voice ragged and weary with pain. "I don't. _You_ need to let me go. I'm done, Boss. Done with everything."

"Goddamnit, MacCready. You selfish, fucking fool! How can you be so calm about all of this? I just-"

At that point, tears took over and she could no longer speak coherently. The sobs were so intense that her whole body shook with the force of them, and she squeezed his hand even tighter; she batted away the tears, which mixed with the blood on her hands and face to create a swell of red that cascaded down her cheeks in a waterfall of anguish. "Don't you get it?" she sobbed. "You're all I have in this godforsaken world, and this is how you want it to end? How am I supposed to-

"Please," he interrupted, his breath catching in his throat as he reached up to stroke her face. "Don't be mad. I don't want to die with you mad at me."

"Then let me help you. I'll send notices to every doctor in the Commonwealth- I'll have airships fly them here, they'll fix you up, and you'll be fine."

She grabbed another stimpak, but he caught her arm in midair and pushed it away. "Don't," he pleaded, choking on the word as he said it. "Promise me that you won't send for help. If you love me at all, Olivia, you'll give me this; but, if you really want to help, bring me Duncan's body from the Capital Wasteland. I just want to see my boy before..."

He trailed off into a coughing fit, and Von gave a shaky sigh before her face became stoic once more. "I can't do that," she answered resolutely, though her voice betrayed her as it broke on the final word. "Even if I could somehow get Duncan to you in time, you're asking me to put the entire settlement at risk. We don't know that whatever he had wasn't contagious and, if the people who sent that message have any sense, they'll have already burned everything he came in contact with."

"Olivia, please..."

"I'm not leaving you. Not like this."

A few moments passed by in uncomfortable, foreboding silence as Mac's eyes implored her to reconsider. It was risky, yes, but how could she deny him his final request? How did that make her any less selfish than he was, in taking his own life to begin with?

"Fine," she declared, her voice wavering yet again as she forced herself to stand. "But promise me this: if you love me at all, you'll wait for me. If you die before I return, I'm burning both of you and feeding your body to the ferals. Are we clear?"

Mac nodded, then made a strange gasping sound as he flopped back down onto the mattress. She took it as a sign of agreement and, leaving a stimpak on the nightstand in case he changed his mind, left the cabin in search of her best and bravest.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Von sends a group of her most trusted to the Capital Wasteland for Duncan's body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _way down-_   
>  _i've been way down_   
>  _underneath this skin,_   
>  _waiting to hear my name again._
> 
> _i'm sorry,_   
>  _nothing can hold me;_   
>  _i adore you still._   
>  _but i hear them calling_   
>  _and nothing can hold me._
> 
> -evanescence, _swimming home_

With a sense of purpose and urgency, Von left Mac's cabin and headed out into the dim evening light. The sun was just beginning to set, and she'd need to act quickly if she hoped to accomplish her mission before...

She didn't want to think about why she was doing this. Maybe she should forget about this madness and just summon every doctor she could think of instead, if she wanted a chance at saving him. But he didn't want to be saved, and would undoubtedly undo all of her hard work at the first opportunity if she left him alone for more than a few minutes. She knew him well enough to know that, if he wanted something badly enough, nothing would stand in his way.

It took her only a few minutes to gather a group of trusted friends for this time-sensitive mission. Deacon, Cait, Piper, and Nick all volunteered before they even knew the nature of the quest she was sending them on, and she was grateful that they didn't ask questions- even though she wouldn't have blamed them if they had, seeing as she was covered in more blood than usual. She didn't want to tell them what had transpired only a few feet away from where they all slept, nor the reason that she wouldn't be accompanying them.

"The Capital Wastes is where you're headed, and I want Duncan MacCready's body on my doorstep before daybreak. I don't care who you have to pay, or kill, in order to make it happen, but we don't have much time. So please, hurry."

"Done," came Deacon's response. "I'll pose as a Brotherhood of Steel soldier and gain access to the vertibird on top of Cambridge. Once I'm in, I'll pick you guys up at the College Square; we'll be in the Capital Wasteland before midnight, and home before the sun comes up. All right, people, let's move!"

He took off down the road, Piper and Nick at his heels. Only Cait seemed to notice that something was wrong, and she hung back for a moment as the others took off running. "Ye all right, Boss?" she asked, her voice sounding exactly like Von felt. "You know I don't like questionin' yer orders, but... I can't shake the feelin' that yer not tellin' us everything. Ye know ye can trust me, Von- what's really goin' on?"

Of course, Cait would know that there was more to all of this than there appeared to be. She had been Von's best friend, the sister she'd never had, for more than a year, and they trusted each other with their lives. But she didn't need to know the truth until after it was over- there was a time for honesty, and this wasn't it. Still, Von didn't want to leave her closest confidante completely in the dark.

"It's MacCready," she finally admitted, deciding that the vaguest and most simple explanation was the safest. "He's... he's hurt bad, and I don't know how long he has. I'd better get back, but promise me that you'll find Duncan's body and bring it here. Promise me, Cait: if you do this for me, I'll never ask you for another thing, ever again."

Cait nodded and, thankfully, didn't pry any further before following the others down the road. Now that this important mission was in capable hands, Von headed back to Mac's cabin to see if her impassioned speech had somehow moved him to change his mind. But it hadn't: the stimpak she'd left still sat on the nightstand, untouched, and that's when she knew that she couldn't bargain her way out of this one.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Von returns to the cabin, and she and Mac have a heart-to-heart as they wait for Cait and the others to return with Duncan's body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _laying alone with the history that made you_   
>  _cold and uncertain inside._   
>  _well, careful now, deep breath-_   
>  _the water's still rising,_   
>  _but your silver lining's in sight._
> 
> -emmy rossum, _lullaby_

Upon seeing the untouched stimpak on Mac's nightstand, Von felt her heart shatter into a million pieces. She'd been hoping against hope that something she'd said would reach him, that he'd change his mind once he realized just how broken she'd be without him. But it seemed that he had his heart set on dying, and that there was nothing she could do or say to stop him from ending the life he no longer wanted.

She closed the door softly behind her and resumed her position at the edge of the bed. In the short time she'd been gone, all the colour had drained from his face and he was as white as a corpse already; blood covered her hands, her face, and the walls. And, suddenly, she was back in Vault 111, watching from behind the sealed door of that godforsaken cryopod as Kellogg shot her husband point-blank and stole Shaun from her, completely powerless to stop it.

It was Nate all over again, except that Mac had chosen this for himself. And Von didn't entirely fault him for it- had their roles been reversed, she'd probably have done the same, or at least considered it. If he was tired of fighting, perhaps she was the selfish one, for wanting to keep him alive; foolish enough to think that she could replace Lucy, or somehow absolve him of the losses he had suffered.

"Hold on," she whispered, her voice quivering as she touched his cheek. "Duncan's on his way here, just like I promised. But you have to stay with me."

A few moments passed in silence, and Von squeezed his hand as tightly as she could, willing this whole thing to be just a horrible dream. She tried to tell herself that she'd suffered some sort of PTSD upon emerging from Vault 111 and that none of this was real; any moment now, she'd wake up, and all of this would be just another construct of her imagination that would pass with time and tears. But she knew better, and that there would never be an end to this waking nightmare.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice breaking as she said it. "I never should have left you alone. If I had known that this was what you were planning, then I-"

"No," he cut in, touching her cheek and leaving a bloody handprint in its wake. "Whether you'd stayed or not, I would have found a way to get the job done. I just wish it could have been... easier."

He held her hand even tighter and positioned it on his chest, just over his heart. "I hope you understand," he went on, stroking her hair with his free hand. "I didn't do this to hurt you, Olivia. That's the last thing I wanted- I know you've been through a lot, and I never deserved you; maybe that's why, in its own twisted way, this is for the best."

His eyes flickered briefly, and Von had to gulp back a sob as she looked at him. "What?" she exclaimed, incredulous. "How can you say that? That you even _think_ such things is just-"

"I know it sounds nuts," he continued. "But you're strong- this world hasn't ruined you, like it has the rest of us, and you'll get through this."

"Not without you."

She squeezed his hand tighter and swallowed over the scream rising in her throat, willing herself to keep it together- just as much for her own sake as for his. "I'm sorry," she repeated, sounding even more broken than she had the last time she'd said it. "Look at me; I'm supposed to be taking care of you, and here I am, feeilng sorry for myself. I guess I just-"

"It's okay," Mac answered for her. "I've had time to think it through; I'm at peace with my decision. And, someday, when all of this is over, you will be too."

With some effort, he managed to pull himself into a sitting position. Almost immediately, her arm was around his shoulders and her forehead pressed against his cheek; the bloody handprint from earlier covered most of her face, and the outline of his thumb sat squarely on her nose and made her look like some sort of macabre circus clown. He wanted to laugh at how silly it looked, until he remembered that the blood was his own and that the only reason she was covered in it was because he was dying.

"So tell me," she said finally, breaking the otherworldly silence that passed between them as her breathing slowed to normal. "Is there anything I could have said, or done, that might have changed your mind?"

"No," he replied simply. "Somehow, I always knew it would end like this. Been considering it since Lucy died, but my boy always gave me a reason to hold on. Now that he's gone, I don't feel right inside, but at least the decision is mine: I'd rather decide my own fate, since it beats getting torn to shreds by deathclaws or tortured to death in some Gunner camp. Can you imagine if Barnes and Winlock had gotten to me before-"

"Let's not think about that. But, no matter the reason, I hope you find whatever it is you're looking for on the other side."

"Me too, boss."

She leaned closer, and Mac let his arm fall around her waist as he held her against his chest. He wanted to remember her face, and what she felt like in his arms- her eyes, her skin, her long, silky hair... If he could freeze time, he'd stop it here and bask in her glow forever. For a second, he questioned his decision, but he knew he'd done the right thing. This was perfect, and he couldn't think of a better way to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was tough to write, and it ended up being way too long... So I've separated it into 2 chapters, for length.
> 
> Most of my work, both OC and fan-fiction, has a high body count. But this was the first time I've ever killed off a character I actually like, and in such a horrible way... I'd be lying if I said that I didn't have a hard time with this.
> 
> My heart hurts for both of them.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Von's trusted few return from the Capital Wastes with Duncan's body just in time; Mac finally dies from his self-inflicted injuries, and Von tries to comfort him in his final moments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _winter has come for me-_   
>  _can't carry on._   
>  _the chains to my life are strong,_   
>  _but soon they'll be gone._   
>  _i'll spread my wings one more time._
> 
> -within temptation, _swan song_
> 
> (I may or may not have cried while writing this; let that serve as a final warning.)

It was just after midnight when the soft whirr of vertibird blades roused Von from her sleep, and she immediately sprang into action. Mac's arms were still around her waist, and her blue vault suit was covered in blood from where those painful-looking gashes had pressed against the second-skin-like fabric; she wriggled free and moved his body so that it rested flat against the mattress once more.

"They're here," she whispered, stooping to give him a kiss on the forehead. "Wake up. Duncan's home, just like I promised."

"Lucy? Is that you? Am I...?"

In response, Von shook her head _no_ as a single tear slid down her cheek. "Wait for me," she continued, giving his hand a squeeze as she hurried out to meet the others.

Thankfully, Deacon had landed the vertibird only a few feet from the cabin. Piper ran ahead, waving her arms and closely followed by Cait and Nick, who carried Duncan's body in their arms. Horrid blue boils aside, the little guy looked exactly like his father, and it broke Von's heart as she tried to imagine herself seeing Shaun like this. Would she have lived through it, or did Mac have the right idea?

"Careful," Piper warned her. "We spoke to the doctors who treated him and, while the infection is no longer contagious without a living host, touching the body without some sort of protective covering is not recommended."

 _As if that matters now_ , she thought to herself as she put on the gloves Piper offered her. Illness and infection didn't exist where Mac was going.

"I'll take it from here," she choked out, trying to stay composed as she took Duncan's little body in her arms. "I'll never forget what all of you have done. Thank you."

Mercifully, the others didn't follow her as she reentered the cabin. She opened and closed the door with one hand, then set Duncan down on a nearby couch before turning her attention back to MacCready. He was motionless now, and she couldn't tell whether he was asleep or dead, but his eyes cracked open as soon as he heard her footsteps.

"Olivia," he said, her name barely a whisper as he took her by the wrist and guided her to her knees. "Did you... Is my boy here?"

"Yes. Would you like to see him?"

Mac managed a nod and slung an arm over her shoulder, allowing her to lead him to where Duncan's body lay atop the couch. "My boy," he sighed shakily, grasping one of Von's hands as if to draw courage from it. "My brave, beautiful boy... I'm not leaving you behind again, son; I promise."

He then looked at Von, who blinked back tears as she removed the glove from her right hand and put it on him. "Olivia," he repeated, the last syllable of her name disappearing into the pre-dawn air. "You don't know how much this means to me. Maybe you never will. But I hope that what you've done will be rewarded in some way, whether in this world or the next."

"That's not why I did it."

"I know."

He reached over with his gloved hand to touch Duncan's cheek, and Von covered it with her own as she reached for his other hand. Time slowed to a crawl and, in that moment, her senses were on high alert: she heard his breath quicken, laboured and shallow, over the sound of her pulse pounding in her head. The end was close; that much she already knew. But not knowing exactly when it would come meant that there was nothing she could do to prepare herself for the onslaught of anguish that she was about to endure.

"He looks like you." 

"He does. But he has his mother's eyes."

A few minutes later, she felt his fingers release their grip on hers; thinking quickly, she grabbed him before he could hit the ground and carried him back over to the mattress in the corner. Some form of cardiac arrest, likely from a combination of stress and chem use.

_No. Oh, god... I'm not ready for this._

She suddenly felt lightheaded, her heart beating so intensely that she thought it might tear clean through her chest as she bit down on her bottom lip, to keep from crying out. What emerged was a pained whimper that sounded like a small child's hunger cry- she'd learned to recognize the difference when Shaun was just a tyke- and a single tear squeezed from behind her eyelid as she tried to be brave. Mac stirred beside her, reaching for her hand as the sun began its ascent into the sky.

"I feel... cold."

In response, she took off her duster and slid it around his shoulders as she took his hand in hers for the last time. "Rest easy," she whispered, swallowing over the sob that rose in her throat like a tsunami as she bent to kiss his forehead. "I love you."

There were so many things she wanted to tell him, so much still unsaid between them. But there was no time for that now, and so she held her breath and hoped that the sum all of those feelings packed into three small words would be enough. 

"I love you too, Olivia. Promise me you'll be brave... I'll tell Nate you miss him, okay?"

"No," she pleaded. "Don't go. I can't do this without you."

She was sobbing openly now, though she knew it was in vain. No amount of time or tears would bring him back, and that was the worst of all. Until now, she'd hoped for a different ending: she'd finally begun to move forward after Nate's death, not knowing that something far worse was waiting in the wings.

"So... tired. Isn't there supposed to be a light?"

His eyes closed, and Von's breath lodged itself in her throat as she felt his hand go limp in hers. Nearly twelve agonizing hours later, it was finally over- for him, at least. But her own nightmare had only just begun.

_This isn't happening. It's not real._

_It's._

_Not._

_Real._

She tried to stand up, but her legs gave out beneath her and she sank to her knees amid the sea of blood and glass. Her heart still thudded furiously on, and a single scream pierced the silence as the world around her plunged into darkness.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life at Sanctuary slowly returns to normal, and Von enlists the help of her trusted few once more to dispose of the bodies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _i reach out, but then you fade away-_   
>  _whenever you call for me,_   
>  _know that i'm only one step behind._
> 
> -within temptation, _stairway to the skies_

In the days that followed, the people of Sanctuary slowly returned to their regular chores and, after taking a day to recover, Von resumed her duties as General of the Minutemen.

For her part, she'd kept the gory details of Mac's death to herself. As far as anyone was aware, he hadn't had any hand in his own fate; even her most trusted friends knew only that he had been gravely wounded and later succumbed to his injuries. Of course, their relationship remained a secret as well; other than Cait, the others were in the dark. And, if she had her way, she'd take that secret to her grave. Affection made people weak and, if anyone else caught wind of the fact that she and Mac had been romantically involved, Preston would find out and declare her unfit for battle... which, coincidentally, was her only salvation in the chaos.

Her first act was to burn down the cabin he'd lived and died in. Then, as soon as the last flames flickered out, she asked Deacon and Cait to fly with her to Lake Cochituate to dispose of the bodies. For the safety of the other settlers, keeping Duncan's body around the settlement for too long was unwise, since there was no telling how contagious the disease still was. Even if it couldn't survive without a living host, there was probably a laundry list of toxic effects that would result from long-term exposure to whatever it was and she couldn't afford to risk her settlers' lives over sentiment.

Of course, her friends were more than willing to offer assistance in this final mission. Deacon reprised his role as pilot and Cait, who offered to navigate, rode shotgun while Von stayed in the back with the bodies. Mac's eyes were closed, as though he were asleep, and his face was more peaceful than she had ever seen it; perhaps, in the torment of those final moments, he had found relief in knowing that the suffering he'd endured in life would soon end.

_If only we were all so fortunate._

She reached over and took his hand in hers. It was cold- like Nate's had been, back in Vault 111- but holding it seemed to calm her; it always had, even in moments when she was sure she'd crumble under the weight of her duties to both her family and to the people who now depended on her for their continued survival. Maybe, in another life, they'd find their happily-ever-after; a parallel universe, in which Duncan had survived and she wasn't left behind to grieve the remains of her life a second time.

Without thinking, she removed one of the bullets from Mac's hat and slipped it into her pack. It was something to remember him by for now, though she'd figure out what to do with it when they returned home. Once she had access to her workshop again, perhaps she'd be able to make it into something worthy of his memory.

Upon landing, Deacon kept watch while Cait helped Von unload the bodies from the cargo hold. The girls carried Mac's body, then Duncan's, down the steep hill to the lake and set both on a nearby picnic table while Von dug through her pockets for a lighter. She'd decided to give them a Viking funeral, like the ones she'd read about during that history course she'd taken in college- she'd signed up for that class to satisfy a degree requirement, not knowing that it would, one day, serve some practical application. Once both bodies were safely in the boat, she set the whole thing on fire and pushed it into the water. She watched as the current swiftly carried the funeral pyre downstream, stared at it until it was but a smouldering speck in the distance; she felt Cait's hand on her shoulder and allowed her best friend to guide her back to the airship. 

They flew back to Sanctuary in silence, and Von retreated to the root cellar; she and Mac had spent much time there, away from the prying eyes of the other settlers, and it was where she'd felt closest to him. Even now, his presence was everywhere, and it hurt that she would never again be able to return here without feeling as though her heart was about to explode. She regretted leaving him alone to process Duncan's death, among other things; but, more than anything, she regretted not telling him sooner that she loved him. She'd never been great at expressing feelings, though she couldn't help but wonder if stepping out of her comfort zone might have saved him.

The tears came easily after that; they kept falling from somewhere, though there should have been dust in her eyes by now. Breathing hurt, and the pain in her chest was so intense that she thought she might die from it. Until now, she'd thought that her family being ripped apart was the worst possible outcome in this terrifying new world, but losing the only person who'd helped her cope with the devastation was more than she could bear. Surely, there was only so much grief that one person could endure before it killed her.

She hadn't prayed since she was a little girl. Even as a child, she'd known that religion was only a tool of fear, used to keep naughty children in line; it was for those exact reasons that she'd distanced herself from prayer, though desperate times called for desperate measures. And so she prayed, to God or Atom or whoever would listen, as she stared down the barrel of her shotgun and searched in vain for a reason not to pull the trigger.

_But you stole that choice from me. Didn't you?_

Her mind made up for the time being, she put down the gun and cried herself to sleep instead.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Von emerges from the root cellar, and a certain Courier returns to Sanctuary Hills...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _i had a dream last night_   
>  _that you came to me on silver wings_   
>  _and i flew away with you on a painted sky._
> 
> _and i woke up wondering_   
>  _what was real-_   
>  _is it what you see and touch,_   
>  _or what you feel?_
> 
> -faith hill, _you're still here_
> 
> (i dare you to listen to that song while reading this~ if it doesn't make you cry, you're a damn synth!)

It was early in the morning when Von returned to the surface, eyes raw from crying. She felt numb, as though she'd dreamed the whole thing, but the pile of ash and rubble where Mac's cabin had been told her otherwise.

She remembered the stray bullet in her pack- the one she'd taken from his hat while flying the bodies out to the lake- and used her weapons workbench to drill a small hole in the back end. When she was done, she slipped it onto the chain around her neck, next to Nate's wedding band. Now, they'd both be close to her heart, for as long as it still beat.

Satisfied with her handiwork, she headed toward the guardpost near the river to relieve Preston, who'd kept watch while she slept. But, just as she approached the post, she noticed a familiar cloaked figure heading up the bridge toward the settlement.

"Stop right there," she commanded. "As General, I forbid you from ever returning here. Your presence heralds naught but despair, and I will not take part in whatever twisted games whoever sent you wishes to play."

"I do not seek to bring you strife, Madam General. But, for many days and nights, I have followed you across the Commonwealth, with the hope that this might find its way into your hands."

The Courier handed her a folded scrap of paper. It had some weight to it, as though something was wrapped inside; she cautiously unfolded it, holding it away from her body in case it was a trap. But, when her eyes skimmed the contents, her heart nearly stopped as she side-eyed the Courier suspiciously.

"Where did you get this?"

But the Courier didn't answer, instead walking away until she and her caravan disappeared into the fog. Von returned to the root cellar with the letter and, once she was safely underground, unfurled the parchment to reveal a carved wooden soldier, made by hands far more skilled than her own. She held the tiny statuette against her heart and, summoning every ounce of courage she could muster, read the letter again.

_My dearest Olivia,_

_If you're reading this, chances are I'm well on my way to the other side. And I know what you're thinking: if I loved you at all, I wouldn't have done this. But it's because I love you that ending this life was for the best._

_I also know that you're wondering where you went wrong, if there was something you could have done to change the events leading up to all of this, and I wish I could give you the answer you want to hear. But there's no way that you, or anyone, could have altered what has now come to pass._

_Truth told, I died four and a half years ago, on the floor of that pre-war metro station I told you about. And I've been broken ever since, well past the point of ever being whole again. I sometimes wish we'd never met, so that I could have avoided hurting you- you don't deserve the anguish I've caused, and I'm sorry that you had to be part of this._

_I know a wooden soldier toy might seem like a strange reward for everything you've done, but this one is special. Before she died, Lucy made this for me- I told her that I was a soldier, and I could never bring myself to tell her the truth: that I was just a hired killer. I didn't want to lose her because of what I was. This little guy is all that's left of her now, but it means more to me than all the caps in the world._

_You always reminded me of her, you know. You're brave, smart, and kind, just like Lucy was; you loved me in my darkest moments and forgave me when I couldn't find the strength to forgive myself. I always thought she deserved better than me, and so do you. You deserve someone who can love you with his whole heart, rather than the broken pieces left behind by someone who's already dead._

_That said, I want you to know that I love you more than anything- that our time together, however short it may have been, meant the world to me. And, while you may not have been comfortable expressing it in words, I know you felt it too. What we had was real and, when you look back on our lives to this point, I hope that you remember the beautiful moments we shared, instead of the pain you feel right now. It won't be easy, but you're strong, and your wounds will heal with time._

_Until we meet again,_

_-RJ_

Von stared at the letter, mouth agape as she pressed that little soldier toy even closer to her heart. And it was only when she pushed an errant strand of hair from her eyes that she even realized she'd been crying.


	11. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A neat ending, tied up with a bow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was this story too dark for you? Not to worry~ there's an alternate ending coming soon, as a thank-you gift to everyone who was masochistic enough to read this in its entirety. Stay tuned!

#### A few months later...

It was a warm, summer day, and the Diamond City Market was, as usual, a bustling hub of energy and commerce. The sun was high in the sky, and shouts from the different merchants echoed through the market as they peddled their wares; little Nat Wright stood near the entrance, hawking the latest issue of Publick Occurences, and people were lined up down the street waiting for their turns in John's barber chair. A day like any other, one might say; but, for Von, it was the start of a whole new life.

After Mac's death, she had moved with Cait and Dogmeat to Diamond City. She'd tried to start over at Sanctuary, though everything it represented soon became too much to bear; the settlement was in safe hands with Preston, so she'd appointed him the new General and now only worked odd jobs for Valentine's Detective Agency- a fitting use of the skills she'd honed working in counterintelligence pre-war. But she wasn't hurting for caps: between her detective duties and Cait's mercenary work, they made more than enough to live comfortably. 

Since moving to the city, she'd cut her hair, dyed it bright pink, and had minor facial reconstruction surgery, to avoid being recognized by those who might remind her of her previous life. Occasionally, people around town would remark that her voice sounded familiar, but no one ever figured out who she was- at least, they didn't say anything if they did- and she was content not to tell them. 

As Cait wandered from stall to stall, marvelling at the sights and smells and brightly coloured merchandise- a nice change from the faded post-apocalyptic brown she'd become accustomed to, no doubt- Von talked guns with Arturo at Commonwealth Weaponry. Diamond City Security guards hovered nearby and both girls laughed off the constant reminders to keep each other in line, but it was on their way out that one of the guards looked at her as though seeing a relative for the first time in a while.

"Hey there," he said. "I know this sounds weird, since you're new to town and all. But... have we met?"

Without hesitation, Von shook her head no. "We haven't," she replied, with a knowing glance at her best friend. "I get that a lot, though I only just moved here. I guess I just have one of those faces."

The guard chuckled. "Welcome, then," he declared, shaking her hand. "So, what brings you to Diamond City?"

"Well," Von continued, as her fingers brushed over the bullet that still hung on the chain around her neck. "I used to live up north, in a little nowhere town about three days' walk from here. But, after my husband died, my sister- that's her over there- and I came here to start a new life for ourselves."

She gestured to Cait, who was devouring a noodle cup at the nearby food stand, and the guard's face turned sympathetic. "I see," he answered. "I'm sorry for your loss, Miss-"

"MacCready. Olivia MacCready. And that's my sister, Catherine, though you'll call her Cait if you know what's good for you."

In response, the guard nodded, followed by a strange look that, again, felt as though he recognized her from before. "MacCready, huh?" he remarked pensively. "That name sounds familiar. I hate to ask, but... was your late husband the mercenary type? He ever run with any bad crowds? You know, Gunners or something?"

"No," she replied. "But he was a soldier- the bravest I've ever met, and with a heart of gold."

**Author's Note:**

> I know this is not a light read by any means; if you've made it this far, I thank you for sticking with me through this.


End file.
